Paper Cuts
by theeShadyLady
Summary: 'Sometimes paper cuts hurt the most.' ...Short snippets of what I imagine happens after "Paper Towns" ends. MargoRothSpiegelmen x QuentinJacobsen
1. Paper Girl

**A/N****-****_ I just recently finished reading _****_Paper Towns_****_ by John Green and I am not completely satisfied with the ending, so I am writing this because I would like to believe this is what happens after the story ends._**

**_((DISCLAIMER: I do not own _****_Paper Towns_****_.))_**

**CHAPTER 1****: "Paper Girl"**

Every once in a while I have this recurring dream and it always feels so real that I am still not completely convinced that it's a dream. In my dream, I wake up in the middle of the night to find Margo crouching just outside my window. And every time this happens I go to her and look into her big, round eyes and just stare back; waiting for her to say something; waiting to hear of her travels; waiting for her to say she's back; waiting for her to say that she misses me. It never happens.

We just stare through the glass of the unscreened window until finally I hear her muffled voice say, "Go back to bed, Q." And no matter how many times following the dream I tell myself that next time I won't listen to her, I always do. And every time I look back at the window from my bed, she is already gone.

I thought the dream would stop, when I went off to college, and it did; when I was actually _at_ college. But when I was home, it would come back; sometimes during Winter Break, once on Thanksgiving; but mostly on Summer Break.

I worried, the day I moved out of my parents' house, that the dream would stop. By then, I knew it was only a dream, because Margo didn't ever really change. Well, when I think about it, I guess each time she did look a little different, but I convinced myself it was just my memory failing me. I'd been having this dream for four years and I was attached to it; to Margo; to the memory of my paper girl. I didn't want it to stop. I needed it to continue.

**~theeShadyLady~**


	2. Paper Boy

**A/N****-****_ I personally like this chapter better than the first one, I'm not exactly sure why, but I do. Hope you all like it. Review? Review._**

**_((DISCLAIMER: I do not own _****_Paper Towns_****_.))_**

**CHAPTER 2****: "Paper Boy"**

I remember standing outside the window of his new apartment for the first time. He lived on the third floor, but his window was next to the fire escape, which I was thankful for. I'm not sure why though. It hurt me to see him; to see the hope in his eyes; to see the sadness; to see him not wanting to listen when I tell him to go back to bed. I don't know why I always returned to him. But I did anyway.

It had been awhile since I'd visited and hadn't been keeping track of him lately. But I knew he'd be there, he was my paper boy that easily bent to my will. He wouldn't leave me. I climbed up the stairs and waited outside the window, staring into the darkness of his room, I heard movement. Moments later, he appeared. I fought back my smile as he fought back the words I could tell he wanted to say. But then I heard a voice, not his, a girl's, "Come back to bed, Q."

I wanted to run away, run far away, but I didn't; I couldn't. I just stared back at him, feeling tears escaping from my eyes and sliding down my cheeks. _Sometimes paper cuts hurt the most._ Quentin starts to slide open the window, he has tears in his eyes too, I shake my head at him, "Go back to bed, Q," my mouth struggles to get the words out.

As soon as he turns around, I step to the left of the window and sit on one of the stairs leading upwards. I pull a notebook out of my bag as I clutch my chest realizing that all this time I still had one string left. And. It. Just. Broke.

**~theeShadyLady~**


	3. Paper Cuts

**A/N****-****_ This will be the last chapter. _**

**_((DISCLAIMER: I do not own _****_Paper Towns_****_.))_**

**CHAPTER 3****: "Paper Cuts"**

I wake up earlier than usual, my mind in a tailspin from last night's dream. I stare up at the ceiling replaying the scene in mind. It hurts me when I do, because it felt so real, I feel like somehow I actually hurt her. I touch my face remembering the feeling of tears on my own face as I saw them on hers and for a second I thought I felt the dried traces of tears. But I have to remind myself it was just a dream.

I sit up deciding what to make for breakfast, it's the first time I've had to make breakfast for two and I'm not sure how I want to go about it. I decide on pancakes as I start pulling on a pair of jeans and nearly fall over as I notice there is something stuck in the window. I waddle towards the window, pants halfway on, and yank it open. Wedged in the side of the opening is a folded piece of notebook paper.

I open it and it reads: _this was the Last Time. ever._

**~theeShadyLady~**


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